Diplomacy
by Flamegirl217
Summary: Alyosha Ivanov's only goal is to restore the history of his fallen empire to where it belongs. But every day, things become more difficult and much more tiresome.


The private office looking out over the Russian city was well lit and bright, the furniture specially made and photographs depicting many people the businessman had met and affiliated himself with.

"Mr Krusav, thank you for seeing me."

Alyosha Ivanov stood in front of the man's desk, feet together and arms behind his back. Dressed in a suit, the longer fringe of silver hair that usually hung over his left eye had been brushed back.

"It was no trouble." Krusav liked to flaunt his wealth, dark hair slicked with gel and gold cufflinks glittering as he sat in a lavish chair, fingers pressed together, "What can I do for you?" Beside him stood his advisor, Demetri, dressed in a suit just as they were. He was more modest than his director.

"Several portraits have recently been discovered, all of them being paintings of Payarian monarchs. I wish for them to be transferred to my cumulation, along with any and all Payari items held in your museum, including the thrones." Alyosha's voice was calm and even, head held high and never breaking eye contact from the man sitting in front of him. Krusav was silent, forefingers tapping in a steady rhythm. Demetri shifted his weight to his other foot.

"What will you be using these artefacts for?" Krusav tilted his head forward in a slight, barely noticeable movement, tone holding the care of stumbling through a minefield.

"They will be restored and kept for the perseveration and eventual restoration of the Payari culture." Alyosha replied immediately, then gave a small nod, "We will be able to compensate you for your cooperation."

Demetri shifted again, gaze repeatedly moving between Alyosha and Krusav. The latter glanced at his advisor for a moment before looking back to the tall man standing in front of his desk.

"Mr Ivanov-"

" _Prince_ Ivanov." Alyosha corrected.

"Mr Ivanov," Krusav repeated, and rose slowly from his chair, "I'm afraid that the museum cannot afford to lose any of its exhibits. Whatever you hope to achieve by possessing these artefacts, we cannot aid in the attempts towards a dead civilisation." A thin eyebrow arched, the only mark in otherwise angelical features.

"Dead?" Alyosha's head tilted in turn with his question, "The Payari were only overthrown a few decades ago, Mr Krusav. That barely qualifies as dead."

"Only one person has even thought about the Payarians since their destruction," Krusav leant forward with his palms on his desk, brow furrowed, "And he is standing in front of me now."

 _Such a disgrace when they use the name incorrectly._

Alyosha's shoulder's squared, his expression easing back into a placid calm. A stray strand of hair fell over his eye, but he made no movement to brush it back.

"Those items are rightfully mine by inheritance."

Krusav shook his head, muttering under his breath as he stepped out from the desk. Demetri took a large step back as Krusav moved to stand in front of Alyosha. Krusav slipped his hands under his jacket and into his pockets, giving the man a small smile.

"I _have_ heard of you before, Ivanov." He leant back against his desk, "I'm surprised you didn't bother to ask me about putting your family back into the history books like you have with so many other people."

 _A lesser man would punch him for speaking in such a way._

"They deserve to be documented, as do any that lived during their reign." Alyosha replied, and Krusav snorted, causing the former to blink.

"The Omnics shoved your family and all your 'inherited' riches into the dirt before they even had any power, Alyosha. I'm not surprised that no one cares if your father couldn't fend off a few pieces of scrap metal." His tone held humour and condescension, and Alyosha stiffened.

 _A lesser man…_

"The Payari fought valiantly, and hundreds were slain because the surrounding cities refused to help. My efforts are to save my culture before it is abandoned entirely." Alyosha's reply was curt, icy blue eyes growing equally as cold. Krusav laughed again, but this held nowhere as near amusement as it did before.

"Your petty needs to remind everyone of your kingdom are nothing more than your own want for power!" Krusav's voice rose as he stepped forward and away from the desk, hands raised sharply as if about to push the man in front of him, "You only care for the pages in the history books that detail the great victories your forefathers won, and you want the throne so that others will have to obey you!" Alyosha took a step back, hands moving to his sides as his fingers flexed. His gaze flickered to the desk, and then to Demetri. The latter was watching Krusav carefully as his hands fiddled nervously, but he made no attempt to step in.

"That is far from true, Mr Krusav-" Alyosha tried, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Whatever amount you have been able to scrap together, it will in no way be enough to afford the luxury in those thrones. My answer is _no_." Krusav spun on his heel and went back to behind the barrier of his desk, "This meeting is over. Demetri, escort Mr Ivanov out." Alyosha fixed his gaze on Krusav as Demetri scuttled around the desk, avoiding eye contact as he muttered a quick 'This way please' and placed a hand on Alyosha's arm.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Krusav." Alyosha turned and let himself be led out of the office, and once they were in the hall Demetri closed the door behind them. Alyosha was silent as Demetri stood before him, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

 _He wants to apologize._

 _He doesn't need to._

Demetri glanced at the closed door before drawing a breath, and put his hand firmly on Alyosha's shoulder.

"May I give you some advice, my friend?" Demetri fixed his gaze on the slightly taller man, like he was indeed a friend that he had known for years, "Your empire is _gone_. Nothing you do can save the people you have already lost. Stop trying to revive that which cannot be."

Alyosha remained silent, a frown lost on his features and unseen by any that wasn't himself. Demetri waited for a response, and when he didn't receive one he swallowed and stepped back, removing his hand.

"We have ways to contact you. I'll personally notify you if we ever decide to sell any of the pieces." Demetri gave a small nod, "Goodbye, Mr Ivanov."

He was by no means satisfied, but Alyosha still gave the courtesy to bow to the man in front of him.

"Goodbye, Mr Chuchnova."

Much later, night had fallen over the city, and a few glittering stars were able to shine through. The city was no less bright, lights on buildings and on the streets illuminating as far as any would want to see and cars passing on the street below. Alyosha Ivanov sat on a junction box on one of the rooftops, looking out at the world around him with a distracted gaze. The suit was gone, replaced with a long purple coat bordered by overlapping, diamond-shaped sequins that reflected like mirrors.

 _My empire is gone. Nothing I do can save the people I have already lost._

His hair had returned to where it usually rested, the fringe over his eye and shifting in the faint breeze. Alyosha frowned and rose to his feet, and dozens of perfectly diamond shaped pieces of metal followed in his wake. Each about the size of his palm, they circled his body like planetary rings.

 _My parents did not leave this world to see their empire be forgotten as they were. The Payari and its people did not breathe their final breath, only for their legacy to do the same._

Alyosha stepped off the junction box and walked towards the edge of the rooftop. Even as his feet left the edge, groups of the metal shards moved under his feet to form plates for him to step upon.

 _I refuse to rest until we have been returned to our place in the history books. My place on the Ivanov throne is insignificant compared to the importance of the lives both young and old that were swept away like dust in the chaos of the war._

Alyosha didn't once look down, keeping his gaze forward in the direction he was walking. A hand was splayed in front of him and angled towards his feet, with the same casualty as a person walking their dog. Alyosha descended to the next rooftop, still unfazed even as his feet once again hit something solid. He stopped, and once again looked out at the dazzling city around him. The light glinted off of the delicate gold crown atop his head.

 _I am Prince Alyosha Ivanov, the last of the Payari and the Ivanov line. My family's empire was overthrown, their people and mine slaughtered in the first events of the war against Omnics._

Alyosha breathed in the cool night air, and turned his gaze up towards the sky.

 _I will not let you be forgotten._


End file.
